


Perceptions

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments of domesticity at Casterly Rock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perceptions

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on tumblr a while back because Cat was sad and she likes Sansa/Tyrion.

It begins when Tyrion wears his muddy boots all the way to their bedchamber, and from there it develops into a game.

 

Sansa catches him out more often than not - wet cloak slung carelessly over the end of their bed, those muddy boots left heedlessly on the expensive rug by the hearth, half-finished plates of food left in their solar - but sometimes he manages to get round her, and she finds herself torn between amusement and annoyance at the little slices of havoc her husband likes to leave in his wake.

She half wonders if it is a shout back to his less responsible days, before he was Lord of the Rock and a father of two and a husband and a privy counselor to the Queen, but there are sometimes wildflowers left on her bedside table to balance the muddy boots so Sansa does not dwell on it.

 

* * *

 

He does not try to force her into red and gold, despite what the household seems to think - Maester Creylen, Tyrion thinks, approves of the way he handles his wife. 

He cannot help but wonder if that is because the old man came to the Rock during his mother’s time and if he, like so many others, sees Joanna Lannister in Sansa Stark (because Sansa will never truly be a Lannister, not if she bears him a hundred strong sons and drapes herself in crimson and gold and brushes her hair out like a lion’s mane, and Tyrion prefers it that way).

 

* * *

 

The children are loud and cheerful and remind Sansa of her brothers and Arya, but she can see that Tyrion is a little more at a loss for how close they are, a little more wary.

“They are not Cersei and Jaime,” she says gently, resting her hand on his shoulder as they watch Elsbeth tumble Gerry onto the lawn. “We will not allow them to be.”

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t like it when she wears her hair up, because it’s so pretty - and he feels a little silly for calling it pretty, Sansa is not pretty, Elsbeth is pretty, Sansa is  _beautiful_ , but he’s always at a loss as to how to describe her hair - and it seems a waste for it to be bound and coiled atop her head, much to far away for him to truly appreciate.

The one thing that makes up for the amount of time she spends with her hair bound up is the near-equal amount of time that he then gets to spend brushing it out for her, and he will never, ever tell Sansa, but he loves that her hair is red and gold because for all that people say it is Tully hair, he can see Lannister in it.


End file.
